Hollywood Gold
by Authoress1001
Summary: Born without a mother to keep memories of, and raised by an angry father who verbally abuses her and drinks constantly, little Marigold Valley struggles to be happy. Between trying to fit in and discovering her cutie mark, where will this filly end up at the end of her life's adventure? Read this story to find out!
1. Chapter 1

Our main character's story begins on a warm spring day. Birds chirp outside, the sun shines bright, and flowers are in bloom. Inside the wide white doors Filly Delphia Hospital, a foal is being born. A nervous stallion paces the hallway, frantic at the sounds of his wife's cries of pain. This stallion is soon to be a father, and he prays to sweet Celestia that his beloved's labor goes well. He runs a stone-gray hoof over his frizzy halo of reddish hair, and yawns in anxiety.

He peeks his head through the door frame of the hospital room. The father-to-be steps to the bedside of his wife, and grasps her hoof in his. Her creamy and delicate skin glistens with sweat from the hard work of childbirth, her golden and lilac locks untamed and in a mess. The contracting mare's vivid green eyes are tired and weary from her labor. She looks up with those vivid green eyes and meets the rosy-hued optics of her husband.

"Lavi, darling..." the stallion coos to his exhausted wife, smiling warmly. "You're doing great. You'll be just fine, I promise." His words are gentle, and he desperately hope that they are true.

"Sir." One of the nurses speaks up, her voice firm and wry. "It's been almost five hours and the head of the foal has yet to show. We might have to put her on painkillers and proceed with a C Section. There's too much blood."

The worried stallion dares not look past the blanket obscuring view past his wife's midsection. He knows that the nurse knows what she's talking about.

"Please, ma'am. You've just got to keep her alive. Can you do that?" He pleads, pinkish eyes wide with concern.

"We can try," the nurse offers, and calls more assistants over.

"Listen, Lavender." The stallion turns to his wife. "Sweetheart, you're bleeding very badly. Soon you won't have the faintest idea of what's going on, because of the medication. But please, hang in there. For me; for our child!"

"Copper..." The poor mare's voice is raspy and shaky. "I love you."

As the nurses urge him out of the room to proceed with the operation, Copper Key locks eyes with Lavish Lavender once more. He does not know it at that exact moment, but it is the last time he will ever look into those eyes- alive, at least- again.

 _Beeeeep._ That droning flat note, the line going flat on the heart monitor, ends his world. His wife, his beautiful and young love, is dead. Copper's jaw drops in horror, the whites of his eyes showing as he peers into the doorway. Tears gather into his eyes when he sees the blood, the flat green line on the monitor, and Lavender's limp body growing cold on the hospital bed.

He does not hear the cries of a wailing foal; if he does, he ignores it. For he does not care that a beautiful little filly was born just now. All he cares about is his beloved wife.

" ** _You!_** " He practically roars, trying to struggle past the arms of nurses barricading him from the baby. "You killed her! You little monster! I hate you! I wish you'd never been conceived!" The harsh words roll from his mouth as he spews with anger and grief.

Of course, the newborn does not know the meaning of these words, but the loudness of his voice causes her to cry harder nonetheless. She has been washed and swaddled in a fluffy pink blanket, stats taken and shots received. Her eyes are sealed tightly, her pale gray face wrinkled into an upset scour. Her pink tongue lolls out as she opens her mouth to release another wail.

Copper Key is removed from the room, as his violent outrage has caused an upset. He is told to wait until he can calm down and sign the papers for his new daughter. He angrily pouts in the hallway. He does not want to sign the papers. He does not want the child who killed his wife. But something causes him to stride in with an icy calm and sign the birth certificate. He will keep the filly, because he knows his wife would have it so. He also gives the baby the name Lavender had dreamed of naming a little girl. He picks up the pen between his teeth and scribbles the name onto the document:

 **Marigold Valley**


	2. Chapter 2

A young filly opens her naturally thick-lashed eyes, a pallet of pink hues, to another morning of her existence. She yawns groggily and her eyelids flutter for a few seconds, her body's response to rousing from sleep. The filly lifts her light gray hooves above her head in a luxurious stretch. She hoists her body out of her bed- or rather cot of some sort- and stands for a moment, taking in her surroundings.

"Ah- Ah- _choo!"_ She exhales in a short and high-pitched sneeze. "It's too dusty in here..."

As the child approaches an old and splintery wooden vanity set, she catches her reflection in the badly cracked mirror. Her hair, the color of butter and lilacs, is a nest of tangles and knots. Her face, a pale gray the color of a cloud in the midst of expelling a light rain, has a sprinkling of dark freckles across the bridge of her nose. Her symmetrical cheeks have a light pink blush to them, either naturally or from the heat of the thick comforter that she swathed herself in to keep out the frigid air of her tiny room (most likely the latter).

The filly reaches into a drawer in the vanity set (it is stuck half-way open), and grasps a brush handle, which she uses to smooth out her mane. She then proceeds to brush out her tail as well, and then is content with her appearance. The young pony is about to walk upstairs to get something to eat, when she notices her calendar that is hung right on the wall prior to the stairway. The calendar is pinned open to August, and the filly's eyes widen when her eyes fall on today's date: August the 5th. It is circled with a red marker and marked with the words: FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL!

"Sweet Celestia, I forgot!" The young pony exclaims, and rushes upstairs and away from her cold bedroom in the basement of her small home.

When the filly speeds into her father's bedroom, which lies a hallway down from the tiny living room, she trips over a broken bottle of Jack Daniel's Whiskey. She gasps in pain when her hoof is sliced open, gushing sticky blood. She lets out a pained scream.

"Holy shhhh-"

Suddenly, a voice booms, "Marigold? What the h- You stupid girl, why don't you look where you trot?!"

"Daddy, I need a bandage or something!" Marigold Valley whips back, staring desperately at her father for help.

Copper Key's eyes, which were slightly darker than his daughter's, were bloodshot. A stubble spread across his chin and over his upper lip, the color of salt and pepper. His curly auburn hair was receding, and he appeared to be in ill health. This was due to drinking, which he did very often.

"Calm down, would you?" He yells, and with know sign of concern or hurry, retrieves a roll of gauze from the medical cabinet. He tosses it at her, and she quickly wraps her bleeding leg with it.

"Clean your bloody mess up. I don't want the wood to get stained." Copper orders.

"I will," Marigold says. Under her breath she mutters, "If your friend Jack weren't in my way, this wouldn't have happened."

"What's that?!" Copper turns to her, snarling.

"I didn't say anything, Daddy!" Marigold smiles sweetly, faking innocence.

"You little brat, we both know you did." He raises his hoof to give her a smack on the mouth, and she bats his hoof away in fear.

Copper seizes her hoof in anger. "Don't push me away! When you deserve a smack, I'll give you a smack!"

"But you don't have to hit me!" The young filly retorts, both fear and anger shining in her pink-hued optics.

"I'm your father! _You_ don't get to decide what you deserve!" And the colt gives the cowering filly a hit on the jaw.

"I'm sorry, Daddy. I won't disobey you again, I promise!" Marigold fumbles, trying to appeal to him. "It's the first day of school for me, you know... We haven't even bought my supplies."

"Use the ones from last year," Copper sighs. "You're in third grade now, right?"

"Fourth."

"Fourth? Thought it was third?"

"No, it's fourth, Daddy. I'm in fourth grade."

"But you're only eight years old..."

"I'm ten, Daddy. I turned ten in February." Marigold lets out a short sigh.

"Huh." He grunts.

 _That proves just how much he pays attention to me,_ thinks Marigold.

"Well, you'll just have to borrow supplies today. You should have told me earlier on," Copper shrugs.

"But Daddy, I _did_ tell you!" Marigold Valley protests, then shakes her head. "Never mind. I will borrow some stuff today... But could you please take me out to get supplies later?" She looks up hopefully.

"I'll give you some bits and you can go to the market to see what you can get," her father replies.

"Thank you, Daddy!" Marigold beamed, happy that he gave in (kind of). He was usually much more difficult.

Marigold trots to the kitchen to find some breakfast. Eyeing the clock on the wall, she sees that school had actually started about ten minutes ago. She grabs an apple and gulps it down, then hurries out the door to catch a bus or something, as school is a good half hour away from her home by vehicle.

As she wonders what schedule Baltimare Bus Lines follows, Marigold bites her bottom lip nervously. What will everypony think of her when she arrives late? Just then, a yellow and black taxi rolls past her.

"Wait!" The filly exclaims, waving her hooves.

The colt behind the wheel of the cab stops short and backs up.

"Need a ride, Miss?" He asks, eyeing her.

"Yes, please! I'm so glad I caught you..." And with that, Marigold opens the door and hops in.

"Where to, Miss?" The driver questions, looking back at her.

"Baltimare Elementary School for the Public, please!" Marigold says politely, and the car speeds off.

The awkward silence between the driver and the filly left Marigold fidgeting in the leather seats. The drive was long, but then again, Marigold never traveled much. About half an hour later, the taxi driver dropped Marigold off at her destination.

"That will be three bits, please." The driver smiles and holds out a hoof.

"Oh!" Marigold gasps, face-hoofing herself. "I didn't even think of that! I'm so sorry, sir... I don't have any money on me."

The cab driver is obviously upset by this. After all, nopony just does a job for free.

"You should've thought about that, young lady," the driver sighs, rubbing his temple. "I'll tell you what, though. You're young and probably in a hurry. I'll let you off the hook this time, but if you come across me again, don't expect me to chauffeur you around without a price." He says sternly, and steps on the gas to be on his way.

"Thank you!" Marigold calls after him, and turns to look at the building of her school.

The walls are red brick, and the roof appears to be a dark metal substance. There are some windows lining the exteriors, through which one can see the classrooms. There is a bus loop and a narrow path leading into a suburban area. Marigold trots up the cement steps and opens the glass doors. She steps inside and heads to the office to check in. She knows the school, for she had gone here since kindergarten.

When she walks into the office, two mares are each at their own desk, tending to paperwork and dealing with phone calls. Two younger ponies, children (and probably fifth graders), are leaning against the smooth black counter-top, presumably office aids.

"Good morning!" One of them says, a young colt with toffee-colored skin and a short black mane and tail. "How can I help you?"

"I need to check in," replies Marigold, and walks up to the desk where there is a sign-in sheet.

"You need a parent when checking in a considerable time after the beginning of classes," the office aid says. "Do you have a parent with you?"

"No. Sorry."

"Well would you like to make a phone call?"

"We don't have a phone."

"Oh," sighs the young colt. "Mrs. Pennyworth? What do I do about a tardy student with no parent to check in with?"

An elderly mare looks up. She has pale skin and silver hair, with milky blue eyes rimmed with dark spectacles. She purses her lips for a moment, before replying: "I suppose she'll just have to check herself in. But it will be in her record."

"Yes Ma'am," the office aid nods, and gestures towards Marigold to sign herself in.

After signing her name and jotting down the date and time, Marigold tells the aid her name so he can give her a yellow tardy slip. She looks it over and sees that it is checked as "unexcused".

"Thanks," she says, and asks for a copy of her schedule. The aid gladly gives her one and she trots out of the office.

"What's my first class?" She asks herself, and looks down at the schedule. She gets her answer when she looks at it:

 **FIRST HOUR- MATH- MR. ARITHMUS**

Marigold sighs. She hates math.

"Well," she mutters. "I better get to class."


	3. Chapter 3

The filly peeps through the small square of glass that served as a little window on the wooden door to Marigold's first class. This year, she will have four classes. This four-class schedule will proceed until sixth grade, where she will then be introduced to a seven-class agenda. Knowing this from ponies who discussed it, she hates it even more because she knows her classes are longer than middle-school hours due to the four-class schedule.

Marigold tries the door with a hoof, pressing down on the handle. This is to no avail, for the door is locked. Blushing with embarrassment, for she is a whole forty or so minutes late (that leaves about half an hour left of class), she is force to knock on the wood, which creates an interrupting sound. Seconds later, a grown stallion opens the door with a strange expression, obviously not enthused. This was Mister Arithmus.

"Ah. I see you've a tardy slip, Miss..."

The gray-bodied filly handed him the slip, which the teacher then scans over.

"...Marigold Valley," he finishes his previous sentence. "So, you've decided to join us! How gracious of you."  
"I'm sorry, sir..." Marigold says quietly. "I've been in quite a haste all morning. It's been very troubling to get here... I hope you understand, sir."

"Oh _no!_ " Exclaims the professor, leading the filly into the room. The class, hearing all of this, breaks into mutters and snickers.

"Quiet, class!" Mr. Arithmus orders. "Marigold here has been through hectic times to get here! Why, she has no time to fuss over schedules and tardiness. So, therefore, she should not be ridiculed for this very minor mistake! To your seat, Miss Marigold! We are warming up with some simple equations. Paper and pencil would be advised."

"Sir," Marigold says, pride shot at this point. "I haven't got supplies."

"Terribly sorry. There's a seat in the back for you, and maybe you could manage to scrape by and borrow supplies?" The teacher replies, with no care implied whatsoever.

Marigold hurries to her seat, quickly dashing between an aisle between desks. But she is tripped for the second time today, this time by a pale blue hoof. She winces and yells in pain, for the hoof struck is the bandaged one with lacerations from the whiskey glass earlier.

Laughs ring out, exploding in poor Marigold's ears. Tears well in her eyes, and she wipes them away.

"I _said_ ," Mr. Arithmus sighs, "To your _seat_."

"Y- Yes sir..." Marigold submits. She trots sullenly and plants her bottom in the very back row.

The young filly looks to her left, where a peach-colored colt scribbles down answers to equations on his parchment.

"Excuse me..." Marigold whispers. "But may I borrow a pencil, please?"

"Haven't you got your own?" The colt sneers.

"No... My father is sending me to the market this evening to get some... I've reminded him, but he hasn't done it yet."

"Whatever," he snorts. "Just take a pencil and leave me alone. No surprise you've forgotten supplies... You trip over your own hooves!"

"Hey!" Marigold protests. "That horrid blue filly over there tripped me! It wasn't my fault!"

"Miss Marigold Valley!" The teacher raises his voice, and more giggles erupt from the class. "For the second- or was it third- time today, you have interrupted my mathematics session. Do you need to see Principal Weeks, or can you shut your muzzle and participate in class activities?!"

"Sorry sir!" Marigold pipes. She lets out an irritated sigh when the orange colt sitting next to her jabs her with a pencil.

"You needed one, didn't you?" He snickers, tossing the pencil at her shoulder.

"Th- Thank you, I think?" Marigold groans and retrieves the pencil.

"Oh, you're _very_ welcome!" The colt replies sarcastically.

As soon as Marigold finishes one side of the assignment, turning it over, the bell rings for next period. She hands her paper to the teacher, who looks it over.

"Only one side's finished," Mr. Arithmus remarks.

"Yes, I didn't have time to complete it, sir."

"Then take it home for homework. Everyone else has finished, because they were _on time._ Have fun with that paper, sweetheart." He smiles, shaking his head.

"Ugh. Okay, sir." Marigold replies grumpily, heading out the door.

"And dial down the attitude, while you're at it, Marigold!" Mr. Arithmus calls out. This gains another round of laughter.

"What a dummy!"

"Is she normally that idiotic?"

"Can't she even _try_ to be normal?!"

"What a giant joke!"

Hearing these remarks, Marigold wipes her tears with a hoof. Clutching the homework in her muzzle, she makes it to second hour with streaks on her stone-gray cheeks. Walking into room 107, she nods to others.

"Um... Hello?" A male teacher looks down at the filly. "What do you need, ma'am? I'm in the middle of teaching a lesson here..."

"Oh! This is room 10 _7_..." Marigold sighs, looking at the panel that shows the room number, blushing vibrantly. "I was supposed to go to room 10 _8_... Please excuse my mistake!"

"No problem, honey. First days can be rough!"

Under her breath, Marigold mutters: "Tell me about it..."

With that, Marigold exits the room and goes next door, where she barely makes it on time for second period.


	4. Chapter 4

Just as the bell rings, Marigold seats herself in the very back of her next class. She figures that if nobody sees her, she won't be made fun of any more than she already has. Her second class is Science with Mrs. Scientia. The teacher appears normal enough, a plump mare with a magenta body and short, straight hair with streaks of gray blending in with her light cherry-blossom colored locks. Her eyes consist of calm, soft ocean blue colors, like waves of navy saltwater in the vast seas.

"Hello, class!" Mrs. Scientia calls out cheerily, proceeding with roll call.

When her name is said aloud, Marigold raises a gray hoof and says quietly: "Here..."

The filly next to her looks eager to learn. Her mane and tail are smooth and rounded, like leaves. The color of her mane is the same as magnolia leaves, her body a light green hue. On her face there rest two radiant optics, all in green hues. She has black, squarish glasses perched on the bridge of her nose.

Marigold gives the green pony a friendly smile.

"Hi!" The filly beams, waving excitedly. "I'm Herbal Essence! I want to be an herbalist when I grow up! It's obviously my destiny..." She rambles on, nodding towards her flank. On that flank there is a cutie mark. It appears to be a mortar and pestle, with some kind of leaves nestled in the bowl of the mortar.

"I'm Marigold Valley." Marigold replies.

"Ooh! Your name is plant related as well... Do you want to be an herbalist, too?"

"I dunno yet..." Marigold states. "All I know is that my mother wanted to name me Marigold Valley. She was a florist..."

"Cool! Well, we better pay attention! Science is my **_favorite_** subject!" She dragged out the 'favorite' a bit.

"I can tell." Marigold giggles, picking up the pencil that she was bombarded with in the previous class.

Mrs. Scientia smiles down on her classroom.

"Today," The teacher speaks, "We will just be getting to know each other a bit. Maybe watch a few short science-related videos."

The classroom heaves a sigh of relief. At least they wouldn't have homework from this particular class.

"You can move around and talk, just not too loud!" Mrs. Scientia smiles.

The class moves around and talks. It gets a bit too loud. The teacher doesn't seem to mind. Probably because it is just the first day.

"Anyways," Essence, the green filly, perks back up. "What do you do for fun? What's your favorite color? Favorite animal? Favorite Food..."

Marigold grins, happy that at least one person wants to talk to her.

She opens her mouth and says, "I like reading or going to the public theater to watch ponies rehearsing... I like purple and yellow. I suppose wolves or cats are my favorite animals. I enjoy a good strawberry and poppy seed salad... Not that I get to eat very heavy. My dad hasn't worked for years now..."

"Oh," Herbal Essence looks up. "Why hasn't he worked? He does have a special talent, right?"

"Well, yes..." Marigold answers. "He was a locksmith. But he was fired a few years after I was born. He started drinking and it affected his career..."

"Wow... Well, I hope it gets better!" Essence offers.

Marigold was surprised at how much she was opening up. But she thought that she might as well be honest in her first friendship.

Just as she was about to ask Herbal about her parents, a pale blue filly walks up to the pair. It was the same filly who'd tripped Marigold in her last hour.

"Oh, hey! It's the pony who came in late, with no supplies, and couldn't walk straight!" She laughed in a shrill, patronizing tone.

"You tripped me!" Marigold shouted back.

"Liar! I did not!" The bully snapped back.

"Oh, shut up, Pacific!" Herbal Essence chimed in. "Stop being such a bully!"

"Says the filly who bragged about her cutie mark all through last year!"

"I didn't brag! I was just excited!"

Then, Mrs. Scientia stepped in. " Marigold Valley, Herbal Essence, and Blue Pacific! I am surprised! Arguing on the first day of school? Unacceptable! Break it up, now!"

"Yes, Ma'am!" Marigold whispered.

Pacific sneered and walked away to a group of other ponies, giggling and whispering while throwing glances at Marigold once in a while.

The rest of the class they watch cool videos about volcanoes, oceans, earthquakes, and other stuff. When the bell rings, Marigold looks at her schedule and sees that her next hour is lunch. What a relief.


End file.
